


just like breathing

by herillusion



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: M/M, Post-Winter Cup
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-20
Updated: 2017-05-20
Packaged: 2018-11-02 20:07:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10951803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/herillusion/pseuds/herillusion
Summary: He couldn't help but be pleased by it. That he got to see another, softer side of him, the sort of vulnerability he wouldn't expose to just anyone. Though that had been a common theme, albeit in different ways, throughout their friendship, where each new thing he learned about Akashi felt like a new piece of a puzzle he was only beginning to piece together.





	just like breathing

“Shintarou. It's me. Meet me at the train station in an hour.” A pause, before a hesitantly tacked on “Please.”

 

Furihata was only able to look at the screen in shock, not having the chance to say anything before the caller hung up. He was fairly certain it was Akashi Seijuurou who had just called, taking a guess that Shintarou was refering to Midorima, the green-haired shooter from the Generation of Miracles. The likelihood was that he had simply dialed a number wrongly and gotten Furihata instead – not that he had any clue why Akashi would be calling Midorima so abruptly or had been given any chance to explain the misunderstanding. It seemed like the call had been made from a payphone, which would explain the mistake, but that also made it impossible for him to call or text back. The logical thing to do would be to contact Kuroko to get Midorima's number, but unfortunately, the pass specialist was currently in America with Kagami, currently leaving him with no way out aside from going to the station himself to meet Akashi. Which was...less than ideal, given that they weren't exactly close – he wasn't even sure if Akashi remembered him, and if he did, it wasn't like Furihata had made the best first impression, with his legs actually shaking when he faced him on the court.

 

He wasn't going to deny he was a coward, or protest that it hadn't been terrifying, because it had been, even if he hadn't witnessed the whole incident with the scissors and Kagami. But thinking back on the call, Akashi had sounded faintly distressed. And it wasn't in him, to ignore that sort of thing, regardless of what kind of person Akashi was. He could be overthinking it, of course. Akashi always had a confident and controlled air about him, leaving aside his breakdown during their match in the Winter Cup, and was nothing like Kagami, who wore his heart on his sleeve. Thinking he was able to see through that neutral mask Akashi wore was arrogant, at best, but even looking at matters logically, it was odd, to say the least, that whole conversation where he hadn't been allowed to get a word in. Not as if he had any clue how Akashi normally spoke to his former teammates, or if they even spoke at all. Even after Kuroko had managed to change their minds about the importance of teamwork, he reckoned things would never be quite the same as they used to be, in their middle school days.

 

What caught at him was how the call ended – he wasn't implying Akashi wasn't polite, though arguably calling his former teammates by their first names when no one seemed to reciprocrate was somewhat odd. Anyhow, no one could be more polite than Kuroko, who continued to use honorifics even with Aomine, who had been his former light and refered to him as Tetsu. It was just that Akashi didn't strike him as someone who would allow himself to come across as pleading, given the whole 'I am absolute' thing he had going previously. He wasn't quite like that anymore, but Furihata didn't know how much he had changed, or more accurately, how much of that pride belonged to his original personality. Kuroko hadn't exactly given them a detailed explanation about it, but the change in eye color and clear difference in playing styles was enough for Furihata to make a good guess. He shook himself off, scrambling to get changed and make his way to the train station. It would be awkward to turn up late and keep Akashi waiting, when having to explain why he was even there at all was already going to be humiliating enough as it was. At least he wouldn't have any trouble spotting him, he thought wryly, as he caught sight of the striking red hair after glancing around the station.

 

“A-Akashi-kun!” Furihata groaned internally at the stutter as the redhead focused on him from where he had been staring into the distance.

 

“Furihata-kun.” The quizzical tone in his voice held the unspoken question of what Furihata was doing here – it would have been fairly coincidental, for them to run into each other at the train station of all places, since it wasn't like say, the mall, that a student would tend to frequent.

 

“Um...you see. Uh.” Furihata managed, tonguetied now that he was faced with Akashi's piercing gaze. He might not mean it to be, but he was _really_ intense. He looked away to try to gather a more coherent explanation.

 

“I...got your call? What I mean is, um. I don't have a way to contact Midorima, so I decided to just...” He gestured vaguely, hoping it had gotten his point across, and at the very least it seemed to, as he watched the light of comprehension dawn in Akashi's eyes.

 

“I see. I apologize for the trouble, Furihata-kun. I will...” Akashi trailed off, seeming unsure as to how to end that sentence. Furihata couldn't help but feel a little comforted by the sign that Akashi was still human, after all. Sometimes the Generation of Miracles was so talented that it was nice to have reminders like this, that they weren't perfect. Akashi had a guarded air about him, which wasn't much different from the way he normally was, Furihata supposed, but he couldn't shake the feeling that something was up with him. It didn't seem right to push, though, not when they barely knew each other as anything other than acquaintances. If that was even the right word to use for someone you had met once – well, twice, technically, since they had seen each other before the match – if either of the times could even be considered meeting when they hadn't really exchanged proper conversation of any sort.

 

“I could take you to Shuutoku, but I'm not really sure if their practice has already ended,” he offered, as a sort of compromise. It wasn't any sort of solution and could end up being a wild goose chase, but given he wasn't sure why exactly Akashi had wanted to meet Midorima, he figured the best he could do without prying was to try to help him accomplish that. The alternative was for Akashi to simply go back to Kyoto, but that seemed rather absurd, considering he'd already come all the way down here.

 

“Or...would you like to come over to my house?” Furihata wasn't sure what had possessed him to make the offer in the first place, since it wasn't like going to his house would solve anything, but Akashi surprisingly accepted. So Furihata led the way, half dazed that this was actually happening and half berating himself because he wasn't the best at making conversation and the idea of sitting in silence together in a room for hours was an unpleasant thought, to say the least. He ended up worrying for nothing, as it turned out. It wasn't much of a progression in terms of getting to know each other better, but Akashi caught sight of the shogi set sitting somewhere amongst the mess on his table, asked if he would mind if they played, and they spent their time doing so. Furihata didn't win a single match, but he wasn't really expecting to, in any case.

 

Akashi struck him as the type who would be good at any game which was strategy related. Besides, the last time he had played shogi had probably been a few years ago, at least, since it wasn't really a popular game among their age group. He found out later on from Kuroko that Akashi had often played against Midorima in middle school, and Midorima had never managed to beat him either, so that was something. He had dinner with Furihata's family before Furihata walked him back to the train station and it was oddly pleasant, like an afternoon well spent with a friend, even though he wasn't sure if that was the right way to describe their relationship. He wondered vaguely how their next interaction would be. Akashi had given him his phone number despite not having his phone on him. If he had then he could have located Midorima without an issue, but Akashi didn't volunteer the reason why he hadn't brought it with him and Furihata didn't ask. He wasn't sure if he would use it – it was hard to see himself sending a casual text complaining about school or anything along those lines, but he supposed there wasn't any harm in having it either.

 

* * *

 

Their next encounter was at Kuroko's birthday party. Like the rest of the Seirin team, he'd had no prior warning either, when the whole of the Generation of Miracles showed up at Kagami's door. His first thought was 'Wow, they're really colorful when they stand together like that' before he caught Akashi's eye and got a friendly sort of nod in response. Perhaps it was odd, to be labelling a nod with emotion of any sort, but it was appropriate, somehow – waving didn't really fit Akashi's image, and he didn't seem to smile much either. It sounded sort of sad, when he put it like that. They got a chance to talk later, since as time passed, each of them separated into different sections of the room with their new teams with the exception of Kise, who appeared to be trying to persuade Aomine to play one on one against him again.

 

“Not a fan of the food?” Furihata asked, seeing that Akashi's plate was still littered with bits and pieces of the various dishes.

 

“Well, I would be more partial to it if there was tofu soup,” was Akashi's reply, “but no, I just don't have such a big appetite unlike some other people here.”

 

He didn't even need to name them for Furihata to know who he was refering to, as their host was still holding a plateful of food while Kuroko eyed him exasperatedly, probably chiding him on talking with his mouth full again.

 

“Well, at least it's not a hard dish to make so you could just cook it yourself?” Akashi's response to that was accompanied with a smile, but the bitter tinge to it made it seem more like a grimace, “My father wouldn't be happy if he heard from the kitchen staff about me trying to cook.”

 

“I can ask my mum to make some when you come over next time, then,” Furihata offered impulsively, as he wondered what was so wrong about it. His mother would be delighted if he showed any interest in learning to cook. He only realised the implication of his words after Akashi shot him a startled look – it sounded like he'd assumed there would be a next time instead of the previous time having been a one time occurrence.

 

“I will look forward to it, then.” Akashi, thankfully, seemed to take it in stride. They didn't make further plans in terms of setting a specific date, but Furihata figured they'd sort it out sometime. After all, it wasn't exactly convenient for Akashi to travel all this way down, and if it was just to spend a few hours with him, it felt silly to make him go to the trouble.

 

* * *

 

About a month and a half later, they had a practice match between Seirin and Rakuzan, where Rakuzan graciously volunteered to come down to their school, with the pretext that they could do it the other way round in future. He wasn't sure whose idea it had been, whether Kuroko or Akashi had taken the initiative or if it had been Coach's suggestion. Akashi seemed unusually intense during the match...not that he had much of a basis of comparison, but there had been a focus about him that came across as if he was trying to distract himself from something. He might not have been way off that thought, considering that he had seen Kuroko eyeing Akashi appraisingly too – but then again that might have just been him worrying about Akashi changing back to his other personality. Rakuzan won, unsurprisingly. They were missing Kiyoshi, after all, and they had only managed to scrape a win in the Winter Cup with him in the team.

 

Afterwards, Furihata wasn't sure what Akashi told his teammates, to get them to leave without their captain, but they at least seemed to be on the same wavelength about it being the perfect opportunity for him to visit Furihata's house again. He had made some hasty excuses to his friends, reassuring them that he was safe with Akashi and he would text them periodically to confirm that. Which felt rather over the top, but he hadn't exactly come clean about Akashi coming over to his house the other time, since the circumstances weren't really easy to explain. Besides, he wasn't sure how much he should reveal so as not to compromise Akashi's privacy. So he couldn't really say it had happened before and he was still perfectly alright. They made small talk while walking, mostly about basketball since that was the main thing they had in common, though of course Akashi had much more control over what his team did. When Akashi fell silent for a bit, Furihata glanced over to see a wistful look on his face.

 

“Penny for your thoughts?” A line stolen from one of the American movies Furihata had watched out of curiousity after Kagami had joined their team.

 

“Oh, I was just...thinking of riding. I miss my horse.” Furihata felt as if he should be more surprised about Akashi having a horse, but imagining it made it seem natural, somehow. Akashi had this air about him that was a perfect fit for horseriding, and the thought made him want to giggle. Since he didn't seem inclined to continue, Furihata figured some gentle encouragement wouldn't hurt.

 

“What's its name? Is it a male or female?” Seemingly warmed by Furihata's interest in the topic, he learnt that it was a white mare named Yukimaru, and even got to see photos of her after some prompting. Akashi had this delighted shine to his eyes as he spoke about her that was warming to see, and he wondered absently whether he had the same look on him when he talked about something he loved. Furihata decided it was time he shared something about himself too. It would only be fair, wouldn't it? So later on, he let Akashi into the room where he kept all his trainsets, half anxiously watching as he ran a finger down one of them. He had to hold back on heaving a sigh of relief when that gaze met his, free of mockery or judgment, filled only with curiousity as he inquired, “So you like trains?”

 

It seemed a little like stating the obvious given they were literally standing in a roomful of trainsets, but Furihata recognized it as the sort of push he'd given to Akashi earlier to elaborate further on the topic, and he gladly took the hint.

 

It was almost the end of spring when the practice match to be held at Rakuzan was finally organized, and Furihata had eagerly accepted when Akashi offered to show him around the city afterwards.

 

“Kou-chan.” Furihata startled when he was addressed after the match, the nickname catching him off guard. When their eyes met, Mibuchi Reo abruptly changed his mind on what he had planned to say, given that Furihata gave off the impression of a baby deer that would scamper off if he tried to be too stern.

 

“Be careful with him, won't you? None of us want to see him hurt.” The upperclassman seemed to abandon the usual sisterly air he carried about him, his tone unexpectedly serious. Furihata didn't need to ask for clarification about who he was referring to, it wasn't like there was anyone else on Rakuzan he even talked to. He couldn't say he appreciated being cornered like that, but it was good to see that Akashi's team cared about him as more than just their captain.

 

“Um...yes.” His hesitant answer appeared to be good enough, as he endured a few seconds more of that dark, searching gaze before getting a clap on his shoulder and being left alone. The court was nearly empty, everyone having already made their way to the changing rooms, and Furihata hurried to catch up with them, not wanting to keep Akashi waiting. In the end, it turned out that Akashi couldn't make it after all, having been called away urgently by his father.

 

“I am deeply sorry about this, Furihata-kun.” The redhead's tone was stilted, formal in a rehearsed way that coming from anyone else would have come across as not being genuine. But when Akashi finally shifted his gaze from where it had been fixed somewhere in the distance over Furihata's shoulder, it was filled with a mix of frustration and guilt that left Furihata with no doubt of his sincerity. He rubbed a hand agitatedly over his left eye, and Furihata wondered if he even realised the significance of the action. He couldn't explain what had possessed him, but in that moment, he let instinct take hold and stepped forward to put his arms around Akashi. Akashi's immediate reaction was to freeze in response in the hug, as if unsure how to respond, and it made his heart ache as he realized Akashi probably wasn't used to having much physical affection in his life. He had an untouchable air about him that made him hard to approach. After a while, Akashi relaxed slightly and even tentatively put his arms around Furihata's back too.

 

“It's fine, Akashi-kun. I know it's not within your control too.We'll figure something out next time, okay?” When they let go of each other, Akashi nodded in response, still having a faintly bewildered air about him, but Furihata counted that as an improvement over the swirl of negative emotions he'd been emanating earlier.

 

Soon, summer came around and it was time for the school festival. Seirin had decided to go with the cliche maid cafe, with Kagami and Mitobe as the chefs and everyone else being unwillingly dressed up in petticoats and kimonos under the watchful eye of their coach. Their captain appeared to be permanently flushed red, as everytime he managed to calm down enough that his complexion was normal again, he caught coach's eye and blushed again. It would be adorable if it wasn't simultaneously nauseating. It also felt like every event ended up being an unofficial gathering for the Generation of Miracles, Furihata thought, as he watched Murisakibara happily munching his way through a plate stacked high with food, seemingly content to just sit there for the whole day. Himuro Tatsuya, who had likely been the one to persuade him to come in the first place, simply watched him indulgently, after having tried and failed to convince him to explore the other stalls. Aomine was sitting nearby with Momoi with a similar stack, Kise at the same table, with his wild gestures likely illustrating some story he was telling.

 

Midorima, as always, was accompanied by Takao, who appeared to have brought along his younger sister. She had the same easygoing personality as her older brother, chattering away happily to Akashi of all people, who nodded along to her enthusiasm. Furihata had to smother a grin at the sight of them together when she started trying to braid Akashi's hair, using her butterfly hairclips liberally to keep the braids in place. Takao gave Akashi a wary look but made no attempt to stop his sister when he continued sitting there calmly, while Midorima had a horrified expression on his face, as if imagining himself in the same scenario. After his shift ended, Furihata made his way to the toilet, glad to be able to change back to his normal clothes. He had just emerged from the cubicle when Akashi appeared, hair messier than usual but free of the clips.

 

Furihata smiled in greeting, before Akashi looked around to make sure no one was in the vicinity before he stepped forward and kissed him. The fact that they were around the same height at least made it so that he didn't need to tiptoe or stretch upwards, Furihata thought dazedly as he kissed back. It was clumsier an action he would have expected, coming from Akashi, who exuded elegance, but he couldn't help but be pleased by it. That he got to see another, softer side of him, the sort of vulnerability he wouldn't expose to just anyone. Though that had been a common theme, albeit in different ways, throughout their friendship, where each new thing he learned about Akashi felt like a new piece of a puzzle he was only beginning to piece together. They broke apart after a while to catch their breath, and Akashi's expression was unreadable, as if waiting for Furihata's reaction. They said actions spoke louder than words, but he supposed some things needed to be spelled out clearly all the same.

 

“Um. Was it because I was wearing...?” Furihata gestured at the kimono vaguely, before Akashi shook his head.

 

“I am...fond of you, Kouki. Seeing you in that merely highlighted to me that it didn't matter what you were wearing, that it was your personality that drew me to you.” Akashi's use of his first name did not go unnoticed by Furihata as he blushed at the compliment.

 

“I can't...make any promises. But I would like to try, if you would have me.”

 

“I...yes.” Furihata managed, before he made a bolder move that he thought he was capable of as he tugged on Akashi's arm, urging him into the cubicle before locking it and continuing what Akashi had started earlier. He knew they might not have any sort of future together, given Akashi's family situation, and the fact that they were from different schools and wouldn't be able to meet frequently wouldn't be easy, but he wanted to give them a chance, all the same. They could worry more about the future later.

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> The title is actually cut from the line 'Winning is just like breathing' because I'm bad at coming up with titles.
> 
> Hopefully this wasn't too OOC/progressed too fast. I didn't tag for any other characters though pretty much everyone shows up, since most of them don't have much focus in the story.
> 
> Inspired by The Fast Train to Kyoto by courtingstars (my favorite AkaFuri fic,so you all should go read it if you haven't already) that made me fall in love with the pairing in the first place (the fact that their 1st meeting in the story was at a train station was partially a tribute to that, aside from the fact it was a convenient spot assuming Akashi didn't know the way to Midorima's house).


End file.
